


Who's Teaching Me To Love?

by Raven052



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, first kill, gun - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven052/pseuds/Raven052
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early days of the Fabulous Killjoys. <br/>The first kill will always change you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's Teaching Me To Love?

When they got out into the zones, there was a lot of firsts for the group of friends who went by the name of Killjoys.  
First night sleeping (or not sleeping) out in the desert.   
First day spent driving as far as they could.  
First time picking up a gun.  
First time wearing a mask.  
First time calling each other by their new names. (Last time calling them by their old name).

So much more.

But nothing, nothing compared to the earth shattering reality that hit them the first time they fired their gun at something living.   
First time they killed something.

As leader, it was hardly surprising that Party Poison was the first one to do it.  
But, really, somehow none of them had seen it coming. 

They’d been out in the zones for about six weeks by that point. They’d become pretty used to the life by now.   
They all had their new names, Fun Ghoul had been the last, having only settled on his the previous week.   
Party Poison had helped him out, eventually, knowing he was over thinking it, and getting himself wound up and frustrated. 

The two of them were sat inside the abandoned building they’d crashed the night before. Ghoul was sprawled out on the floor, catching up on the sleep he’d missed the previous night.   
Party Poison had started insisting one of them stayed awake each night, so they could warn the others if there was trouble.   
There had been small noises of disagreement from the others, mainly because no one wanted to loose sleep, but they’d realised the logic behind it.   
Poison was staying inside because he’d been out in the sun too much already that day, it’d started to make him feel sick.  
The other two, especially his brother, seemed to have no such issues with the sun. 

Poison had happened to stand up, look out the window, when he saw it.  
A Drac, just the one, but heading towards them. It’s gun was by it’s side.   
Party Poison didn’t stop to think about it, and before either of the others could spot the threat, he’d already fired.  
The Drac went down immediately, in a messy heap. 

Fun Ghoul sat up, waking with a start. “What the fuck?”  
He looked, and saw Poison, standing by the window.   
Gun still raised.  
“Oh. Shit.” 

Kobra Kid and Jet Star had both heard the shot too, and saw the Drac fall, then they turned and also stared at Party Poison, stunned.  
Poison forced himself to lower his gun, though his arm felt stiff and heavy.  
He felt as stunned as the others looked, but he didn’t, wouldn’t let it show.   
“We should move on. There could be more.” He said, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could manage.   
The others nodded, wordlessly, and headed to the car.  
Party Poison took an extra moment, and stared down at the gun in his hand, before slipping it back into its holster.   
It felt heavier, more conspicuous now.   
He jolted when he felt a hand on his shoulder.   
“Poison.” Fun Ghoul’s voice was quiet, careful. “Do you want me to drive?”  
Party Poison shook his head. “I’m fine.”  
“You’re not.” Ghoul argued, glancing down at Poison’s hands, which were shaking.   
Poison looked at them too, bringing them up to look at closer.   
Then he clenched his fists and shook his head again. “I told you, I’m fine.” He insisted.   
Fun Ghoul sighed, knowing there was no arguing with him. “Okay. Okay. You’re fine.” 

The hands that gripped the steering wheel were a little too tight, but no one mentioned this, the other three Killjoys decided to distract themselves and each other with the usual chatter. Each glanced at Party Poison at intervals, but he showed no signs of hearing them.

They got to a new safe house with relative speed. Party Poison drove fast, he always did out in the desert, something about the wide expanse and the car itself leant itself to going fast.  
It may have been Fun Ghouls imagination, but he thought they were going even faster today.

As soon as they got there, Party Poison said he was gonna head straight inside.  
"You sure you're okay G-" Kobra Kid started to say, before he saw the sharp look from his brother, and quickly corrected himself, "uh, Poison?"  
Party Poison shrugged, nodded. "Yeah. Just, you know. Tired."  
Kobra Kid nodded, staring at Poison intently, "Yeah. Okay. Hard drive, right?"  
"Right."  
Before he could be asked further questions, Party Poison turned his back and went inside.

Party Poison was pleased to find a small, relatively dark (but not too dark) room. No lock on the door, but at least it had a door, which he pulled closed behind him.  
For a few beats he stood there, with his back to the door.  
He closed his eyes, and let the near darkness of the room merge with the darkness of his closed eyelids.  
He breathed in, slowly, then out, slower.  
Concentrated on that, the sounds of his breathing, and on the darkness around him.  
He unzipped his jacket, shrugged it off and let it fall.  
In doing that, his hand brushed against his gun. And, for the first time since he'd had it, it made him jolt. He snatched his hand away from it, as if it were white hot.  
Only then did Party Poison open his eyes, look down at the gun in its holster, where it'd lived, snug against his thigh, for weeks now.  
It'd been unused in all that time.  
He'd fired it, for practice, and, the events of earlier proved the practice had paid off. He'd known he was a good shot, currently the best of all four of them, but this was the first time with a moving target.  
A living target.  
He'd killed someone. (Some _thing_ , he told himself, quickly, having to tell himself that Dracs weren't really people. Not anymore)  
And, suddenly, the previously tame and docile object he'd carried with him was potent, powerful.  
Poison was vaguely aware there was possibly some kind of metaphor in there, but he didn't want to really dwell on that.  
He un-strapped the gun, forced himself to hold it in his hands, like he had before, many times.  
Forced himself not to be afraid of it.  
And found what he was really afraid of was himself.  
It'd been easy, too easy. He hadn't even thought about it, the gun had been in his hand, and fired before he even knew what he was doing.  
He'd taken a life without stopping to think.  
 _But if I'd stopped to think... What would've happened? It wouldn't have hesitated to shoot us down._  
So, what? He was no better than a mindless Drac? Was that it?  
 _Just deal with it, you killed someone, and like it or not, you'll have to do it again.  
This was what you chose, by running, you chose this!  
Life after life after life after life.  
YOU CHOSE THIS!_

He didn't remember when, or how, but Party Poison found himself on his knees, on the floor, his gun thrown off to the side.  
Heaving breaths that he couldn't figure out if they were sobs, or in an effort to try not to throw up.  
 _I just wanna go home...  
(Home? What is home anymore?)_

“Poison?” A soft, careful voice broke into the solitude the Killjoy leader had created for himself.   
He didn’t look up, refused to acknowledge that he’d heard anything.   
“Poison. Are… You okay?”   
He couldn’t help it that time, he glanced behind him, and caught sight of Fun Ghoul standing in the doorway.   
He looked away again quickly. Annoyed with himself for letting himself be seen like this.   
He was the leader, he was supposed to be strong.   
He knew he looked anything but strong right now.   
“Shit, Gee.” Ghoul said, under his breath as he stepped further in, letting the door close behind him.   
Ghoul stopped when he saw Poison raise his hand, up behind him, signalling Ghoul to stop.   
“Do _not_ call me that. You _know_ not to call me that.”  
Fun Ghoul rolled his eyes. “Well, fuck, it’s your goddamn name, isn’t it?”  
“Not-”  
“In front of everyone else, sure, you are Party Poison.” Fun Ghoul continued, talking over him. “Up against the company, you are Party Poison. Out there in the zones, you are Party Poison. When we are out there, as a team, as the Killjoys, yes, you are our leader, Party Poison.”  
He paused then, crouched down beside Poison, before continuing, gently, “But when you’re… When it’s just us, you’re Gerard again. Same as always.”   
At that, Poison laughed, bitterly. “Not the same.” He said. “I’m not the same as always.”   
Fun Ghoul sat then, cross legged, apparently getting himself comfortable.   
“This is about the Drac.” Ghoul said, not a question.   
Poison didn’t answer.   
“You know you only did what you had to. You know it was gonna happen eventually.” Ghoul persisted.   
Still, he got no answer.   
“I… Can’t pretend to know what it’s like. To be the first of us to… Have to shoot someone, to protect ourselves. And I won’t pretend the idea of having to do it myself at some point doesn’t scare the shit out of me, but-”  
Ghoul cut off when he saw a response, non verbal, but still a response from Poison. He was shaking his head, over and over.   
Ghoul kept quiet, allowing his leader to speak.   
“You have no idea.” Poison said.   
Then he looked up, straight at Ghoul, for the first time.   
His eyes were filled with fear. “And I don’t want you to know. I don’t want you, or Jet Star, or-”   
He cut off before saying his brothers name, his head dropping low.   
“Fuck. Fuck!”   
There was a choked sound to his voice, betraying the fact he was still loosing his battle against the tears.   
He looked up again. “What have I done?” He said. “This is my fault. _Mine._ I’m…” Poison stopped again, frowning, softly as he stared at Fun Ghoul. “I’ve done this to all of us. We’re all going to be killers… And it’ll be my fault.”  
Fun Ghoul closed his eyes, tight.   
Somehow, somewhere in all his panicked thoughts over taking a life, Poison had managed to forget everything, everything else they were here for.   
Ghoul shook his head. “No. No, Gee, you’re-”  
“Name!” Poison snapped.   
“Fuck off with your name bullshit for a minute _Gerard_ this is more fucking important!” Ghoul snapped right back.   
The Killjoy leader backed down, feeling wounded.   
Ghoul paused for a while, thinking over his words carefully.   
“Gee. I don’t ever want you to think that coming out here, into the zones was a bad idea. And, I won’t speak for the others, but I can tell you _I’ll_ never stop being grateful that you knocked on my door that night and came and got me. What you did… You freed us, Gee. And, I know, I know right now it’s just us four against the company, but… Hell, when hasn’t it been us against the world? And, bigger than that, when hasn’t it been you trying to change the world? To show it something better, because, you know, we’ll just be the start. Others will follow, others will want this freedom, and that’s the point, right?”  
He paused, trying to gauge Party Poison’s reaction, though it was hard to read.   
“My point is, Gee. You haven’t made us killers, though, yes, we accept, the time will more than likely come when we need to, but that’s not us, that’s just surviving. You’ve let us be ourselves. Free. _That_ is what you’ve done.”   
Again, he paused.   
“And, fucking hell. The fact you’re so torn up over a Drac just proves you’re no more a killer than you were six weeks ago.” 

Finally, Party Poison looked up, slowly.   
Staring right at Fun Ghoul.   
Then, without warning, he leaned close, and kissed him.   
Hands on either side of Ghoul’s face, he kissed deeply, and urgently. He soon felt Ghoul’s arms wrap around the back of his neck, pull him close, felt him kissing back.   
The kiss broke just as abruptly as it’d started, leaving the two men breathing hard as their hands slowly found each other, and clasped tight.   
“What the fuck would I do without you?” Poison asked.   
“Crash and burn.” Ghoul replied, with more than a hint of teasing in his voice.   
Poison laughed, and kissed him again.   
“How do you make everything seem okay?”   
“Magic.”   
“C’mon, Frank, quit teasing!”   
Ghoul looked up then, and smiled.   
Poison smiled back, slightly embarrassed to realise he’d broken his own rule.   
Then, after a long pause, Poison asked, “Stay with me tonight?”  
Ghoul nodded. “Of course.” 

Fun Ghoul eventually managed to coax Party Poison out of the small room, and return to the others. Of course, he pretended everything was fine, as if his mind didn’t keep flitting back to the moment the gun had gone off.   
In a way though, it was comforting. Fun Ghoul had been right, the fact he cared, the fact he was so bothered by it, proved he was still him, nothing had changed.   
He didn’t like the fact that he, and the others would all likely need to kill time and again, but, so long as they held onto themselves, and didn’t become cold to it… Party Poison thought he might be able to handle that. 

That night, back in that small room with Ghoul, both of then curled up close to each other, having used each others real names over and over again, the Killjoy leader couldn’t imagine ever feeling more like himself.   
Or happier to be that.


End file.
